Apart
by slutherin07
Summary: Katniss lives in District 1 with her father. They had to leave behind a very pregnant Mrs. Everdeen. If Katniss is reaped as the District 1 tribute years later, who is she up against from District 12?
1. Chapter 1

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am 16 years old. I live in District 1 with my father. The reaping is today and I will not get picked. I cannot get picked. _I repeat the phrase over and over in my mind as I walk to pavilion where the reaping for the 74th Hunger Games will take place. I am not used to the District 1 world even though I have been here for as long as I can remember. I came to this district long before I even thought of having to deal with the stress of the Games. I was five, and my father was stationed here to dig up jewels for the Capitol. He had to leave my pregnant mother in District 12, and took me along to help with his pain. I've never met my younger sister, nor do I know anything about her. The Capitol prevents any major interactions between districts, even if it's family.

Since then, the lifestyle itself in District 1 is fantastic. I always have plenty to eat, a home big enough for my father and me, and even a steady job assisting gold miners with the transportation of their daily digs. It isn't home though. There's no District 12 scent that I long for, or the smell of my mother's hair: roses mixed with sweat. District 1 is too proper; too modern.

I make my way to the large group of 16-year-old girls in their pleated skirts and neat, wrinkle-free blouses. I'm not one for expensive clothing. If it keeps me warm, I'll wear it. I smooth out my blue cotton dress and bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself from worry.  
>"Katniss! Hey, Katniss!" My head snaps up and I follow the familiar voice with my head. Across the rope separating me stands my very good friend, and working partner, Gale Hawthorne. "You ready? I am. Big day! We've been preparing for this, and this is my last chance. Cross your fingers for me, it's my last year!" He pats my shoulder twice, and turns around to speak to the other boys. The truth is, I have been preparing for these Games just as a precaution. Actually participating is at the bottom of things I want to do. Slowly, I turn and walk back to a gap in the middle of my area. Everyone seems to be carrying about like this day is no big deal, but having to face the fact that my name might be called makes my heart race. The escort, Isaac Crumplton, makes his way to the seat next to a beautiful woman with cascading blonde curls and piercing blue eyes. I knew her from previous years; her name was Cashmere LeBoult, and she was the mentor for our two tributes.<p>

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," Mayor Crowliss croons into the microphone. He lists out the previous winners of the Hunger Games from District 1, which is both extensive and male-dominated. When Cashmere's name is called, she gives a slight nod and blows a kiss to the audience. They roar with wolf whistles and cheers. I'm growing sick to my stomach and begin counting backwards from 100.

The mayor is finished now, and switches places with Isaac, who begins to reach into the glass bowl in front of him. "We will begin with the men!" Isaac cheerfully says. He digs around for a while, presumably for dramatic effect, and pulls out a small slip of paper. _65, 64, 63…_ He opens the slip and carefully reads out the name, "Marvel F. Prowdess!" I immediately feel my stomach drop. Marvel's a classmate of mine… a friend. More importantly, he's Gale's right hand man, and meant more to him than most other things. I snap my head towards Gale who has gone white. I'm unsure whether it's because he hasn't been called or if it's because his friend is walking to his death, but I follow his gaze as Marvel makes his way to the stage. Before he reaches the steps, Isaac's voice booms through the plaza, "let us give a round of applause to our newest tribute!" Citizens begin cheering and shouting, the typical District 1 behavior. Marvel is now standing up on the steps, shaking hands. "Now, is there any boy out there willing to volunteer for this young man? Willing to risk their life for this wonderful district and most importantly, to show their dedication to Panem?" The cheering dies down, and there's silence.

"Me. I do." Gale's voice echoes through the quiet, and he repeats himself, louder this time. "I do!" He breaks through the crowd and runs up the steps to Marvel, who is struck with confusion.

"No, no. I want to do the Games, Gale. Isaac, I want to be the District 1 tribute!" Marvel protests, attempting to push Gale down the steps. The audience breaks out into murmurs of awe and gossip. As it was, rules on volunteering weren't exactly set it stone, but there was never a time when the reaped tribute stood his ground when a volunteer came running along.

Isaac places a hand over his head and walked over to the mayor and three Peacekeepers. The unexpected turn of events makes my palms sweat, and I rub them anxiously on my dress. I finish counting down, and eventually begin counting up. Isaac hurries back to the microphone and carefully speaks. "According to the rules set up for the Games, the reaped tribute has final say." Gale longingly looks back and forth between Marvel and Isaac, and eventually stalks back down to his designated area.

"Well," Isaac continued, "that was unexpected. But that's just another part of the fun of the Hunger Games! Ladies next!" He digs his hand into the second glass bowl and pulls out a slip. _89, 90, 91…_ I squeeze my eyes close and wait for him to speak. "Katniss Everdeen." He says slowly into the microphone. The girls standing near me gasp and jump away, as if I was contagious. My heart stops, I'm sure of it. I hear nothing; my vision morphs everything together into a blurred ball. _Breathe, Katniss_, I tell myself. _Step to your death. One foot, then the other. The faster you can get to the podium, the better_. I slowly trudge my way through the groups of people and up the steps.


	2. Chapter 2

The next moments are a blur. Hands extended. The numb feeling of skin against skin. Pats on the back. My mouth has gone dry and the stoic expression on my face attracts the attention of Marvel. He leans in close, "Katniss. It's fine. I'm sure someone will volunteer for you." He grabs my hand, but grips it loosely, as if it's only for show. My palms sweat. My head is pounding while Isaac repeats the words over again, asking for a volunteer.

No one speaks.

"Well, we have our two District One Tributes for the 74th Hunger Games! Everyone give a round of applause to these two wonderfully brave kids. Marvel and Katniss, if you will please follow me immediately after this for we're going to prep you to get going to the Capitol to begin your training. Happy Hunger Games everybody!" The crowd cheers and lingers around while Marvel and I are escorted down the stage and into the District Hall. We're immediately separated and they place me in a drab room with a single loveseat.

"Please," the Peacekeeper beckons, "take a seat. You will say your final goodbyes in a moment." I obey, and the Peacekeeper takes his position by the front of the door.  
>"You're here to make sure I don't escape, right?" I say, emotionless. His face snaps up and meets my gaze, but he says nothing. "I'm not going to, you know. Escape. I'd rather die at the hands of children than by yours." Still, he says nothing, but continues to look at me. "But then again, you probably wouldn't think twice about killing a child, would you? None of you would. You're all the same, all you can think about is the honor and the power you're getti—"<p>

"I have three children." He finally speaks, in a low voice, just barely loud enough for me to hear. "I would step down before I would have to kill a child."

I cock my head and retort, "at least you'll be able to see your children tonight when you go home. You can forget about me, about the Games. About everything. You have nothing to worry about." I'm not sure the reasoning behind my words, I don't despise the man before me; I don't know him. But I can't stop.

"Actually, they live in District Two with their mother. I've been here for two years, and haven't seen or spoken to them since." Pain stabs through my heart. Prior to this, I had not heard of a family other than my own split apart from the Capitol's doing. I immediately regret every word I've spoken in the last few minutes. My mouth is agape, and I stare into his blank face. "Everything is not what it seems, Miss Everdeen." He finally says.

The doors open, and my father enters along side another Peacekeeper. He runs over to me, and embraces me completely. "Katniss, please. Please, come home. You're all I have left. You must win, you must." He strokes my hair and doesn't loosen his hands around my back. His breathing staggers; he's sobbing. I grit my teeth to hold back tears.

"Dad. You know I've been practicing. I'm going to be fine. I promise you I will be fine." It's a lie. My death is inevitable, and he knows it.

"Katniss," he chokes, and grabs my shoulders, leveling his gaze with mine. "Katniss, you need to promise me something." The tears are pouring from his swollen eyes, and I nod. "Do not trust anybody. No matter how well you get along with them. Do not trust the Careers, do not trust Marvel. In the end, it's going to be you alone in that arena. Just you." He shakes me, and once again begins to sob, falling into another embrace. I say nothing to prevent the chance of choking on my own words, but I nod. We remain silent for the duration of our time together, frozen in a picture of father and daughter. Finally, the Peacekeeper who escorted my father in speaks.

"Mr. Everdeen. Your time is up. Please follow me." He pulls me tighter, and then releases and turns his back completely to me and begins to walk away.

"Dad," I say, following him. "Dad! I love you!" He doesn't turn my way again, and rounds the corner before I can call out for him again. Once again, I'm left in the room alone with the Peacekeeper. I avoid eye contact with him, and sit back in the loveseat, burying my face in my hands.

"Katniss?" A different voice all together catches my attention. Gale. The inflection he uses calms me. He walks slowly through the doors, followed by, of course, another Peacekeeper. He sits beside me and places a hand on my leg. "You know, kid, that you're going win this. I have no doubt that you will. You have it all, and you're going to blow all of them out of the water." He smiles at me, and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I saw your dad earlier, and I know he probably made you upset. But it's just because he's afraid for you because he loves you so much." My eyes well up with tears, and I turn away from him. "Katniss," he groans, grabbing my face and turning it towards him. He leans in closer, "you will be fine. You are the perfect person for this. I believe in you. District One believes in you. Now, you need to believe in yourself. You're beautiful Katniss Everdeen. You're as radiant as the sun." He wipes the tears from his eyes and smiles. I smile back at him, and knowing that I may never see him again I give him what is most likely the last hug I'll ever receive.


	3. Chapter 3

Gale is eventually escorted out and the remaining Peacekeeper leads me down the hallway into a second room. This one is different; it's a room with a long table and many chairs. A briefing room, without a doubt. But the reason to why I was brought here is unclear. The windows blinds are drawn completely, giving the room an eerie, dark look. The wooden floors are neatly polished. I look up, and at the end of the table, I see Isaac sitting with Cashmere and Marvel.  
>"Katniss, darling!" Isaac bellows, extending his arms out. "Join us, please!" He gets out of his seat, and pulls back the seat next to Marvel for me. I walk over, and once I take a seat, Marvel leans over.<p>

"Do you have any idea what's going on? I've been here for five minutes and I don't know a thing…" I just shake my head, and stare at Cashmere and Isaac. They are in deep conversation on the topic of tinting skin. I hesitate asking them what's going on. I open my mouth to speak, but quickly close it again.

"My dear Katniss. You look horribly confused!" Isaac laughs, pushing his blue hair out of his face. "Never fear, never fear. Everything will be explained to you in just a short while. We have to wait for the other tributes to get here first." He laughs, and smacks his hand on the table.

"What? Other tributes? But don't we meet at the Capitol?" I ask, looking at Cashmere for anything to help me figure out this situation.

"Well, yes," she says, noticing my glance at her, "but we have something special for a certain few districts who… well, let's just say, who deserve something special." She begins to laugh. A sweet, sickeningly controlled chuckle. I decide not to speak again, because no question I ask will be answered by any of these two idiots. I slouch back in my chair, and begin playing with the edge of the table, waiting.

A few minutes later, four kids arrive, the tributes from two of the other 11 districts, along with their mentors and their escorts. The one boy, who looks more like a man, walks beside a girl as large as him. She has piercing green eyes and dark hair that flows passed her shoulders. They all take a seat and remain silent. Isaac, at the head of the table finally stands up.

"Well, I assume you all are wondering why we have you here today in District One instead of the Capitol. Now, I assure you all, you will be going to the Capitol in a very short while, but it is strict protocol that we bring you Careers here beforehand. You all are our, what shall we say," he rubs his chin, "cream of the crop of the Games. You are the toughest, the strongest. We expect you will not go down without a fight. After all, it's in your nature. So we're bringing you here today to give you a little _heads up_ of what's to come in this year's game." He presses a button on the table and spins around. A projected image comes up against the wall. As I'm figuring out exactly what it is, the dark haired girl speaks.

"A map." She states. "Of the arena?" Her lips curl into a smirk as she turns to the boy next to her and whispers in his ear.

"Yes, very good, Miss Clove, is it? A map of the arena. This of course, is strictly to help you. We want to make sure you all go into this knowing the nooks and crevices of every turn you'll make." He pulls a bunch of papers from a folder and passes them around. "These are exactly what you see on the wall. You'll be allowed to look at them on the train ride up to the Capitol, but we're taking them away after that. We don't want them slipping into the wrong hands, if you know what I mean!" He laughs, and the other escorts join in. The wrong hands? He obviously means the other district tributes. This is despicable. This entire meeting. It's illegal and unfair. And now the other five teenagers around me are given the same advantage I'm given, which means it will now be harder for me to avoid them. "Of course," Isaac finally says, still gripping his stomach from his laughter, "now this means that we expect you all to 'team up'. We want no killing of any of these fine tributes, understand? Save the murder for those worthless other districts. Not like that stand a chance anyway!" He chuckles again, but continues, "You will all have the train ride to strategize. _Together._" He claps his hands together, and walks over towards the wall. I look down at the paper, and my grip tightens. The map warps in my hands from the sweat and I stare blankly at it.

"It's woods." I say matter-of-factly. "And a lake on the opposite side."

"Very good, Miss Everdeen!" Isaac says, and he points to a circular black blotch on the wall. "Let me just say, I highly advise that you avoid _this_ at all costs. This is the lake. And although it may seem very tempting, you must not go near it. The Gamemakers are going to have a lot of fun with the tributes thinking of it as their safe haven. Your best bet is the going through the woods and down the valley. There's a river flowing through, as you see here," he says, following a trail with his thin finger, "and you're best off sticking near the river, and setting up base in the outskirts of the woods. We advise you keep your strongest at the base sight to keep watch for any unwanted tribute who may linger through." He claps his hands together and returns to his seat. "Do the mentors want to say anything before we're sent off?"

I look around, and a man, a beautiful man who looked no more than twenty himself, raises his hand.

"Ah, yes, yes. Mr. Finnick Odair, you have the floor, no need to ask permission!" Isaac beckons him.

Finnick clears his throat. "These Games, they change you. You'll go in there with certain presumptions and desires and goals, but you will see, as soon as starvation and dehydration and all of that set in, you're main goal is survival, and to survive, even if you have to kill every last one of you allies, you'll see that-"

"Okay!" Isaac bellows, cutting Finnick off completely, "enough with the downer! Let's think happy thoughts! We have high hopes for all of you, as long as you all _stick together_! Got it? Stick together! That's _our_ advice to _you_!" He claps again and quickly speaks again, "Well, well, well. It's about that time. Let's get going!" He stands up and gestures for the adults to follow him out of the room. Once they all leave, Marvel and I get up together.

"That's awesome, isn't it? You know that we got to see the map and everything! Our chances of winning just doubled!" The excitement in his face is credulous.

"Yeah, I guess." I shrug. Even though at this moment exactly, majority of the other tributes are planning how to kill my partner and me, the feeling of betrayal overwhelms me. I sigh, and follow the group of people towards the train.


	4. Chapter 4

My mind is in knots as we exit the doorways into the train station. The tributes from Districts Two and Four exited a different way so the citizens wouldn't see them and become suspicious. The train station's pathways are blocked off for us, but the people seeing us off are lined up by the dozens on the outskirts of the station. Children are chanting my name over and over again, and I tell myself I won't look back. I can't bear the thought knowing my odds of seeing them all again are slim to none. I glance over at Marvel, who, of course, is lathering up the audience's attention. He's blowing kisses and bowing and whooping as we make our way to the train.

"It's really nauseating that you do that," I state. He raises an eyebrow and looks over at me.

"How can you not love the attention? Hey, if this is the last time I get it, I'm taking advantage of it." He winks to a horde of girls and turns his back on them to continue walking with me. I don't say another word; he's got a point. But, nonetheless, we continue on the trail to our deaths and enter the train.

Already sitting in a compartment is the District Two girl, Clove, and her male counterpart. In the opposite booth are the District Four boy and girl. Finnick Odair is talking to the female mentor from District Two, whose name I heard to be Enobaria, when he stops midsentence to welcome Cashmere into the group. Awkwardly, I take a seat in the booth nearest the train door, half expecting Marvel to join me. But, instead, he continues down and sits with Clove and the boy. For me to join them is an unspoken pledge into the Careers, but to remain where I am is to prove my stand against them. I sigh, and instead, get up and walk down the corridor aimlessly, passing the corridor with Marvel. Eventually, Isaac gets on the train, and it thrusts into motion. This is it, there's really no turning back now. I consider the possibility of jumping out of one of the open windows. At the rate the train is moving, my chance at survival is pretty high, but I obliterate the idea from my mind completely.

"Alright, tributes! Begin strategizing! You have about four or five hours until we reach the Capitol, so get to!" Isaac beams into the booth containing Marvel and his newfound friends. He repeats the words over to the booth across. I continue walking for no reason. Maybe for the hope that if I walk far enough, there will be some sort of refuge for me where I don't have to fight in the Hunger Games and I can go back to my father and to Gale. I stick my hands into my dress pocket and turn the corner when my name is called out by an unfamiliar voice. I spin around to see Finnick Odair jogging to catch up to me.

"That is your name, right? Katniss?" I nod. "Katniss, I'm Finnick Odair."  
>"I know who you are," I say. "What are you, some hero coming to make my day better? Or are you here to tell me to start strategizing my death?" He looks astounded at my words, but recovers quickly.<p>

"Calm down, Sweetcheeks, I was just coming to give you some tips." He reaches his hand into his pocket, pulls out something square and white, and pops it into his mouth. "Want a sugar cube?" He asks. "They're so sickeningly sweet that it'll probably make you forget about the next few months of complete hell. It's going to be the worst time of your life. Get excited!" He raises his eyebrows mockingly and starts walking back to where he came from.

"Wait. Finnick, wait." He stops, but keeps his back to me. I roll my eyes and catch up to him. "I would really appreciate any help I can get in these Games…"

"Well, what can you do?" He asks. I look at him with total confusion. He sighs. "What are your talents that you'll use in the arena? You know, like knife skills or stealth?"

"Bows and arrows. I can shoot anything anywhere at any time." I say almost immediately. He grins mischievously.

"If you aren't exaggerating, then that's impressive. Not everyone can do that. My advice to you, Katniss, is to hold back on the extent of your talents in front of the judges. Don't let them give you too high of a high score or you'll be targeted by some of your own." He pops another sugar cube in his mouth, and he points behind him, talking about the other Careers.

"I wasn't going to trust them anyway. I prefer to work alone."

"Interesting," he says, staring at me. He moves closer, leveling his face with mine. "Don't trust them. Don't even trust your District One frien—"

"My dad already told me not to, and I'm not stupid. I wasn't going to—"

"Don't," he raises his hand up, "cut me off midsentence. I _hate_ when people do that. Listen to me. Don't trust them, because as soon as they see you're stronger than them, they'll sabotage you and make sure you're the first to go." He almost whispers, lowering his hand, "mislead them now if you must, but as soon as those Games start, stick to yourself. Run the opposite way. And believe me, Katniss, I would know. I won one of these before, and I was expected to be in the Careers, but I wasn't." Now, he's inches from my face. His beautiful sea green eyes are wondrous and fantastic, but I snap out of my small reverie.

"I understand; I believe you. But, Finnick," I say barely loud enough for myself to hear, "why did you tell me this and not your own tributes?" He grins.

"You just seem like you deserve it most out of any of them, kid." He pats my head and gestures in front of him. "Now, go back there and act like you care about them." He crosses his arms and sends me off.

I trail back through the halls to the booth now containing all of the Careers. As I enter, their heads raise. "Well, if it isn't the ever so famous Katniss Everdeen." The male tribute from District Two grins. "We thought we might've scared you away before the Games even started." He winks and slouches back in seat. Clove catches the wink and scowls at me.

"If you expect us to do all the work, then you're out of luck." She sneers.

"No, I'll do work." I state firmly, and take a seat next to the District Four girl. Maps and diagrams and pads of paper with notes on them are spread out around the table. I take a diagram and analyze it. Red circles are drawn around areas that are heavily wooded. "Why the circles?" I ask.

The District Two boy is the first to speak, "they're the places that we're planning to set up base at." He says, taking the paper from me. He points to a circle and then drags his hand along a red line leading to a second circle. "We stay in vicinity of circle one for a while, then move after a few days to keep the audience enticed." The audience. Of course! This is all about what the audience in the Capitol wants.

"Hey," Marvel says, a new idea obviously blossoming. "Why don't we go around and share what our strengths are, you know, to decide who will stay and guard base at which time." _Uh-oh_, I think. Finnick's words fill my head, and I have to think fast. Do I lie to the people who are my supposed allies? Or do I risk sabotage and certain death? My mind is in a whirl when I hear my name being called by Marvel. "Katniss? Hello?" He waves a hand in front of my face. I regain lucidity and turn to him.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about what it is I'm good at," I fake a laugh.

"Yeah, because I'm sure _that_ list is long," Clove scoffs sarcastically.

"Actually it is," I lie. "I happen to be a great," I hesitate, only for a moment to let my instincts kick in. "Miner." The booth erupts in laughter and I grow angry. "By that I mean I have incredible upper body strength," I raise my voice, defending myself. Defending my father.

"What are you, from District 12?" Clove laughs. My breathing halts.

"I'm sorry that your jealously is blinding you, Clove, but I would really love to hear what you're so fantastic in." I snap, gritting my teeth. The room falls silent. Clove's face contorts from that of an average teenage girl into something horribly vicious.

"I'm great with knives." She says in a low voice. "I could cut your heart out before you could even _blink_." Clove and I stare at one another, not breaking eye contact while the remainder of the tributes stay completely immobile.

"I could snap your bones in half with my bare hands before _you_ could even _blink_," I mock. It's a complete lie, but my hostility towards this girl is at its peak.

"Well," the District Four boy says, "maybe we should just change the subject if everyone's going to get all antsy about it."  
>"Shut up," She and I speak at the same time. The District Four boy leans back in his seat and sticks up his arms in surrender. His fellow tribute smacks him lightly on the shoulder and whispers something into his freckled ear.<p>

Finally, Clove pushes the table aside and stalks out of the room. As she turns the corner, she screams out, filling the entire train with an ear-piercing bellow, "AND DON'T FOLLOW ME, CATO!" There's a chuckle of disbelief coming from the District Two boy, who I now assume to be Cato. He turns to me.

"You better watch yourself, Miner Girl. She's violent." He gets up and walks out of the room, following her. _Oh God, what have I done?_ I ask myself. This is all Finnick's fault. If he hadn't coaxed me into lying at such an early time, I wouldn't have frozen and gotten angry. Marvel stands and begins to walk out of the room as well, but turns around as he reaches the door.

"What was that, Katniss? They're supposed to be our teammates." He shakes his head and continues out into the hallway. Now not only do I not have allies, I've already created three enemies, one of them being from my own district. I shudder in absolute frustration and cross the hall to my own booth. I lock the door and sit on the bench. There's no way I could win this. Clove is a sadistic sociopath and with Cato on her side I'll be the first one dead. I pound my fists into the leather seats and wait for the arrival announcement so I can be one step closer to my death.


	5. Chapter 5

I sit alone in the cabin. Hours pass, but I keep my focus locked on the window. Trees pass, and eventually, the land fades into water. We must be close. I find myself dozing off, but am suddenly awakened by the opening of the door. Finnick walks in and takes the seat opposite me. "Would you like to tell me why you said what you said to Clove?" He asks.

"Are you kidding me? She was instigating it. It wasn't my fault!" I feel the tears burning behind my eyes, but I quickly blink them away.

"Katniss. If you're going to win this, you need to stay calm. You need to make them _want_ you, and right now, you're number one on their kill list! You have two choices. Fix it, or develop one hell of a plan that will take them all out. All of them." He leans forward, holding his gaze with mine.

"Why do you even care about me? What about me makes you want me alive _so badly_?" I hiss through gritted teeth. I'm fuming. Not at Finnick, but at myself. At the situation I was placed in both involuntarily and voluntarily. My hands ball into fists and tears run down my cheeks. He smirks, but gets up and walks towards the door. There's a part of me that wants him to stay. He makes me feel understood. Safe.

"It's because you're worth saving." He states with his back towards me, and continues walking.

_What does that even mean?_ There's nothing about me that makes me worth saving. I'm nothing to Finnick, yet he wants me to survive so badly that he's giving me tips under the table. I groan and drop my head into my hands. My head aches and all I want to do is sleep and dream of a happier time, when I wasn't the Capitol's property, when I was home in District 12, and when my mother sang me to sleep with her unforgettable smile.

I wake with a start. The train is moving slowly, and I realize that we've arrived. I've always been told that there was no place in Panem that even closely resembled the beauty of the Capitol, and seeing it first-hand at this moment, I finally understand. Towers of different shapes and sizes rise up into the atmosphere and people who are blue and green and pink walk without a care in the world, as if they didn't know a train full of soon-to-be dead teenagers are about to be unloaded onto their grounds. I'm astounded at the grandeur of the city, and my mouth falls agape. I place a single hand on the window, and it's as if I could feel the crispness of the air outside. It is undeniably beautiful, but it makes me sick. Nausea erupts deep in my stomach and I wrap my other hand around my belly, securing myself. _Breathe, Katniss_.

We pull into the station, and people with hats and signs and flags surround it. Their cheers vibrate the window, and I quickly withdraw my hand. I get up, knowing that someone, probably Isaac, will come get me soon anyway. I exit the cart, and find the other tributes in the hallway as well. It's silent apart from casual murmurs of what we're to expect next. I stand against the far wall, putting the biggest distance I can between Clove and myself. Isaac rushes through his cabin door and throws his arms up.

"We're here! We're here!" He sings and he pushes through us towards the exit door. "All right, tributes! Line up according to Districts! Boy, girl, boy, girl! Let's go! Put on your best smiles, because, remember, these people are going to be paying for your survival!" We line up as ordered, and as soon as the doors open, the cheering erupts, louder than anything I've ever heard, and I follow Marvel down the steps onto the walkway. "Ladies and gentlemen!" Isaac bellows, his voice carrying only slightly above the screams. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you the District 1, District 2, and District 4 tributes of the 74th Annual Hunger Games!" The cheers grow and I'm incapable of even thinking clearly. Walking through the crowds seems like a dream, and when we enter the building that will be living in for the next week, my legs buckle. When the doors close, silence swallows us. My brain strains to grasp reality and black spots swell, dulling my sight, and slowly, I fall into the dark stillness.

"Katniss! Katniss!" Finnick's voice floods into my ears. I open my eyes and find myself on the floor, with Finnick staring down at me. He's knelt down and his hands cup the back of my head. "Katniss, you fainted." He speaks slowly.

"What?" Weak. This just screams weak. I gasp and scramble to get to my feet, but dizziness attacks me, and I stumble. Finnick grabs my waist.

"Whoa, whoa. Don't get up too quickly. Are you okay?" I turn to look at him, and our faces are only inches apart. His eyes remind me of the sea, and for a small moment, I'm lost in them. "…Well, are you?"

"I…um…yes. Yes, I'm fine. I think I'm just dehydrated." How could I be so stupid? I get to my feet and look around. The Career tributes are all staring at me, and fear pangs deep in my chest when I see Clove's lips curled upwards. I act unaffected and turn towards Finnick, who still has his arm around me. "Where do we go?"

"Tribute information session. It's in five minutes. You all would've had more time to see your rooms and get ready, but because of the earlier," he lowers his voice, "_meeting._..we're running a bit late. Tributes, follow me." He lets go of my waist and walks through an elaborate archway. I follow close behind him, still staying as far away from Clove as possible.

When we reach the room, I notice that every other tribute is already in their seats. I sit in the second chair, and Marvel sits to my left. While everyone else is getting settled, I take the time to assess my competition. A huge, dark male sits in the fourth to last seat, and I make a mental note that he is the most vicious looking. He precedes a small, beautiful girl who must be the District 11 tribute. She has large, chocolate eyes, and her hair is pulled into a tight bun. The second to last seat belongs to a blond boy, stocky build, with a look of sheer terror plastered on his face. _He won't stand a chance_. I tell myself immediately. _He probably won't get even survive through the bloodbath._ And then, my eyes drift to the last seat. A young girl is sitting, her eyes swollen from crying. Her blonde hair is in braided pigtails, and she wears a cream blouse and a forest green skirt. She looks familiar, almost as if she existed in my dreams. _I wonder if she knows my mother or sister_, I ask myself, but my thoughts are suddenly cut off by the start of the session.


End file.
